Let Me Make It Up To You
by Roxanne Kowalchuk
Summary: What does a man from Sara's past and a one night stand have in common?


Title: Let Me Make It Up To You  
Author: Roxanne Kowalchuk  
Feedback: roxette@ilos.net  
Category: S/G  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own CBS or the tv show CSI.   
Spoilers: None  
Summary: What does a man from Sara's past and a one night stand have in common?  
Note: Thanks to Devanie for reading my story. She really liked it. :) Inspector Carter, Deacon  
Marx, and the name of Sara's sister came out of my head. So I think there mine. :)  
  
  
**********  
  
Carrying a stack of files, Nick headed into the lunch room. "Has anyone seen Sara?"  
  
Not even bothering to look up Grissom, who was busy feeding a bug, answered. "She took the  
day off."  
  
"She did!" Nick said, surprised.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Finding that a little odd because she had told him they'd work on the case reports, Nick shrugged  
his shoulders and turned around. He turned straight into Catherine. "Oops."  
  
"Watch it, Nick."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Looking to where Grissom was and to Nick, Catherine spoke. "What's wrong with him?"  
  
"I don't know. I just asked where Sara was and he didn't even bother to look up when he  
answered me," Nick explained.  
  
"Odd."  
  
"Tell me about it."  
  
"Why were you looking for Sara?" Catherine asked out of curiosity.  
  
"She said she'd help with these case reports," Nick replied. "Oh well. I'll go do them."  
  
"All right, Nick," Catherine told her co-worker as Nick walked off and she entered the lunch  
room. "Gil?"  
  
  
Looking away from his bug, Grissom looked up. "Yes?"  
  
"You okay? You seem down."  
  
"Yeah, fine," Grissom answered as he put the lid back on his jar that contained the bug and stood  
up.  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Uh huh," he continued as he rinsed out his tupperware container and dried it. Turning back to his  
bug, he picked it up and started out of the lunch room.  
  
Reaching out, Catherine placed a hand on his nearest arm. "Gil, you can talk to me."  
  
"Nothing to talk about," Grissom told her as he kept walking. "Got work to do."  
  
Turning around, Catherine watched her friend walk down the hall. Something was wrong and she  
knew it. And she also knew it had something to do with Sara.  
  
*****  
  
"Mom... I know I will... But just tell me when he got out... Okay, he may not come... I know  
mom, I know," Sara said into her phone. She had been on the phone with her parents and friends  
for most of the morning. "Yes, mom, I will protect myself... Okay, I'll talk to you later... Yes  
mom, love you too... Kiss and hug dad for me... Okay, bye."  
  
Turning her phone off, Sara placed it down into the cradle. She figured after all the talking she did  
that morning that her phone would need a good charge.  
  
Sinking down into her couch, she rubbed her face. "So he's out," she said to herself. "Just great.  
Now what?"  
  
She didn't know. It had been a long time since the incident. But she did know that no one at CSI  
would know about it. This was something she'd have to deal with alone.  
  
*****  
  
Making sure the coast was clear, Sara silently made her way to Brass' office. "Brass?"  
  
Looking up from his paper work, Brass greeted Sara. "Hey Sara, what brings you by?"  
  
Walking into his office, Sara closed the door. "I need a favor."  
  
"Sounds serious if you closed my door."  
  
  
"It is. Can you help me?"  
  
"Sure, I'll see what I can do."  
  
*****  
  
"Gil?"  
  
Taking his glasses off, Grissom looked up at the figure standing at the door. His door. "You don't  
give up, do you?"  
  
"No. Not when I see a friend of mine in pain."  
  
"I'm not in pain."  
  
"Then what is it?" Catherine challenged. "You're walking around, like your best friend died."  
  
"It's not that."  
  
"Then what is it?" Catherine inquired. She was worried.  
  
"Nothing," Grissom tried.  
  
Rolling her eyes, Catherine walked into his office and sat down. "That won't work."  
  
"Persistent, aren't you."  
  
"When I want to be," Catherine told him with a smile. She'd get to him, sooner or later.  
  
*****  
  
"Yes, he was just recently released," Brass told Sara. "Although, he's not to leave California."  
  
"And if he would?" Sara knew the answer, but asked any ways.  
  
"He'd be arrested," Brass answered. "What's going on?"  
  
Getting up from the chair she was sitting on, Sara walked towards the door. "Nothing."  
  
"Sara, you can talk to me," Brass told her. It was the truth.  
  
"I can handle this myself," Sara answered as she opened the door and walked out of the office.  
  
Looking back to the computer monitor, Brass made a mental note of the ex-con's name and then  
shut his computer off.  
  
*****  
  
"Sara didn't come into work today," Grissom finally gave in.  
  
"So?"  
  
"When she phoned me this morning, there was something in her voice but when I went to  
question her on it she said she had to go."  
  
Catherine knew what kind of relationship was between Gil and Sara. She knew Sara was wild  
about him and that Gil showed some interest. Although, he needed some sense knocked into him  
on how to go about a relationship with her. "Did you phone her back?"  
  
"I tried."  
  
"And?"  
  
"The line was busy," Grissom told her as his head snapped up. "Sara?"  
  
Stopping in the doorway to Grissom's office, Sara answered. "Grissom, Catherine."  
  
Getting up from the chair she was sitting in, Catherine answered. "Hey Sara." Not sure if she  
should stay or not, Catherine made some excuse up. "I've got paperwork to do, I'll see you later."  
  
Watching Catherine slip out of the office, Sara remained where she was.  
  
"You okay?" Grissom questioned. She had asked for the day off but was in.  
  
"Yes," Sara answered. "I came to ask for a few days off."  
  
"A few days?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"How many is a few?" Grissom asked.  
  
"Four days," Sara answered. She had things to do.  
  
"That's a lot."  
  
"I know it's short notice, but I have some important things to do."  
  
"Care to tell me what?"  
  
  
Shaking her head, Sara continued. "No, it's private."  
  
"Sara, I need a reasonable explanation before I grant you four days off," Grissom told her, flat  
out.  
  
Taking her I.D. off her jacket, Sara stepped into his office. Stopping in front of his desk, she  
dropped it onto the desk. "Either you give me four days off or I quit. And that's not a threat."  
  
A little shocked, Grissom looked down at her I.D. "Sara."  
  
She knew that voice. "I quit, Grissom."  
  
Watching her walk out of his office, Grissom spoke up. "Sara, wait."  
  
Stopping at the door, Sara kept her back to him. "You don't trust me, you never have."  
  
"I do, Sara," Grissom told him. "But I need a reason."  
  
"I don't have one to give you at the moment. I may never have."  
  
Something deep down was telling him to trust her but his conscience wasn't... "Four days.  
Nothing more."  
  
Turning around, Sara walked back to the desk and retrieved her I.D. "Thank you." And walked  
straight out.  
  
She didn't give him time for him to tell her that if she needed anything to phone him at any hour.  
All he could do was watch her walk out. And for some odd reason, it felt to him like it was the  
last time.  
  
  
*****  
  
Two days had passed since Sara had walked out of his office. And within those two days,  
Grissom had sunk into a glum. He missed Sara, which was a first. But this was in a different way.  
It felt to him as if she was in trouble, but didn't want help. Or refused it.  
  
"Grissom."  
  
Looking up from poking at his food, Grissom saw Brass. "Yeah, Brass."  
  
"Come on, grab your coat."  
  
Grissom didn't understand. His pager hadn't gone off. "What's up?"  
  
  
"I have a case and I need your help," Brass told him. "Now let's go."  
  
Getting up from the table, Grissom quickly recovered his food and threw it in the fridge. "I have  
to get my coat."  
  
"Yeah, sure," Brass said as he walked down the hall with Grissom.  
  
*****  
  
She knew he'd come. She knew that. And she was right. The window in her house was smashed,  
along with a few other things. Including herself. But before the police had arrived, he had taken  
off.  
  
"Ms. Sidle?"  
  
Looking up, Sara looked at the police officer. "Yes?"  
  
"I would like to suggest you get looked over."  
  
"I'm fine," Sara told the officer for what felt like the hundredth and twentieth time. "I'm fine."  
  
Backing off, the officer could hear it in her voice, that not to bother her anymore.  
  
*****  
  
Joining Brass in front of his car, Grissom took a look around. "This is no CSI case."  
  
"Yes I know that," Brass told Grissom as he showed his badge to a police officer.  
  
"So why are we here?" Grissom asked as he followed Brass.  
  
"Because," Brass answered.  
  
Okay, Grissom quickly figured out that Brass wasn't making much sense, but when he neared the  
house, something clicked. Okay, it was really when he saw the woman. "Sara?"  
  
Rubbing the back of her neck, Sara looked around for the person who had called her. "Grissom."  
  
Quickly moving to her, Grissom looked her over. "You're hurt?"  
  
"I'm fine," Sara told him as she looked pass him and up at Brass. "Who called you?"  
  
"This is my job, Sara," Brass told her. He was referring to him being a police officer. "And besides  
when your name popped up on the report, I had to come."  
  
  
"And you brought him." Him was Grissom.  
  
"Yes. I figured you'd need a friend."  
  
Wanting to get into the conversation, Grissom did. "I'm glad he did. What happened?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
He didn't believe her. "Nothing? How can you say that?" Grissom told her. "You don't have a  
front window, and it looks like some one tried to rearrange your face for you." She had a black  
eye and a swollen cheek.  
  
"And apparently did some remodeling inside too," Brass added as an officer walked away.  
  
"It's nothing."  
  
"Sara, if you don't tell us, we can't help you," Brass told her, straight out.  
  
"I don't need your help," Sara answered as she went to get up. But a pain in her side put an end to  
that.  
  
Catching her, Grissom spoke. "You're going to the hospital."  
  
*****  
  
At the hospital, Sara was admitted. She protested but it fell on a deaf ear. No one listened to her.  
  
"Sara."  
  
"Look, I'm fine. I don't need your help."  
  
Brass was starting to hate this game. Her telling them she was fine, but all the evidence proved  
she wasn't. "I didn't put it together until now."  
  
"Put what together?" Grissom asked.  
  
"She asked me to do a check on a parolee."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Deacon Marx."  
  
"Never heard of him," Grissom replied. He had no clue who he was.  
  
"That's because he was in prison in California."  
  
"Oh. For what?"  
  
"Assault."  
  
Watching Sara's reaction, Brass continued. "What else did he do, Sara?"  
  
"Got away with murder,"Sara told them. And it was true, he did. No one could ever prove it.  
  
"Murder?" This peeked Grissom's interest.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Who'd he kill, Sara?" Brass pressured.  
  
"It doesn't matter."  
  
Grissom could see it now. Sara was protecting some one. Moving towards the bed, Grissom sat  
on the edge. "Sara, whomever you're protecting won't get in trouble with us, the police."  
  
Closing her eyes, Sara took a minute to herself. Opening her eyes again, she threw the blankets  
off and got up out of the bed. "You two don't understand. You never will."  
  
Grissom was shocked by her actions. "Sara, you need your rest."  
  
"No, I need for you two to leave me the hell alone."  
  
Brass wasn't expecting that answer. "Sara."  
  
"No, Brass, I should've never asked you."  
  
Not want to upset her anymore than she was, Grissom backed out. "Come on Brass, let's leave.  
Sara, get some rest."  
  
"Sure," Brass agreed. He was up to trying anything.  
  
"We'll be back, Sara," Grissom told her as he and Brass left her room.  
  
When they were gone, Sara climbed back into bed and collapsed, weeping into her pillow.  
  
*****  
  
"Well?"  
  
Stretching in his chair, Brass answered Grissom. "Did you know that Sara had a sister?"  
  
"No," he answered. "She doesn't talk about her family."  
  
"Well, she did."  
  
"Did?"  
  
"Yeah, she died about six years ago."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I don't know," Brass answered, truthfully. "It doesn't say."  
  
"But I bet it has something to do with Deacon Marx."  
  
"Oh yeah, without a doubt."  
  
*****  
  
Leaning on the doorframe to her room, Grissom watched Sara. "Going somewhere?"  
  
Throwing the hospital gown on the bed, Sara answered Grissom. "I'm going home."  
  
"And exactly how are you getting home?"  
  
"A cab or the bus," Sara told him. "And don't bother telling me my place is a crime scene because  
it won't work."  
  
"Wasn't going to," Grissom told her as he moved away from the doorframe. "Can I offer you a  
ride?"  
  
Not wanting to wait for a cab or a bus, Sara agreed. "Sure."  
  
"Good," Grissom said as he walked with her. Out of the hospital and straight to his SUV.  
  
*****  
  
Watching her collect her belongings, Grissom was thankful for Brass. He had got some officers to  
put up a piece of plywood over Sara's broken window.  
  
"What, Grissom?" Sara asked as she continued cleaning her living room.  
  
Sara knew him. And he knew that. "What does Deacon Marx and your sister have in common?"  
  
Dropping what she had just picked up, Sara spun around. "What did you just say?"  
  
"You heard me. What does Deacon Marx and your sister have in common?" Grissom repeated.  
  
Her temper was flaring. And she tried her best to tell Grissom off without getting really mad at  
him. "That is none of your business."  
  
Grissom could tell Sara was getting mad. He knew her. "Look Sara, when one of my CSIs is  
attacked, I have the right to know why."  
  
"No, you don't."  
  
He was confused. A first for him. "Why not? Why can't you tell me?"  
  
"You're not family," Sara blurted out as she sat down on her couch.  
  
It was a start. "I know, but I'm your friend."  
  
"It won't do."  
  
Thinking quickly, Grissom dropped down to his knee. "Then if I asked you to marry me, would  
you consider me family?"  
  
That surprised Sara. Truly surprised her. "What?!" But then it dawned on her. "No Grissom, I  
can't involve you in this."  
  
"Too late, I am involved. You're my friend and when some one hurts my friend, I get involved."  
  
She knew he won't leave. She knew he was going to do anything he could do to protect her. And  
she knew she had to tell some one. "Six years ago, my sister was killed by her boyfriend."  
  
Realizing that she was telling him the story, the truth, Grissom got up from the floor and sat down  
beside her on the couch. "Deacon Marx?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Grissom was already confused. "What does Marx going to jail for assault have to do with  
murdering your sister?"  
  
"I was there."  
  
"There?" Grissom wasn't too sure what she was getting to.  
  
"When Marx killed my sister, I was there. I was in the same house but I had been knocked out."  
  
"Sara."  
  
"He had it all planned. But unfortunately I wasn't in his plan."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Marx hated the fact that my sister was going to break up with him. He hadn't been treating her  
with respect and such," Sara explained as she refused to look over at Grissom. "So the night he  
planned on killing my sister, I decided to stay over. Have a girls' night. He broke into the   
house at about one in the morning. We were still up. Talking."  
  
He was starting to understand. "All right."  
  
"He surprised us. Especially my sister," Sara said as she stared off into space. Like she was  
remembering it all over again. "He drugged me or something. I don't remember. I think he was  
going to do it to my sister, but with me there, he drugged me. Although, I put up a fight. Got  
assaulted in the process."  
  
Somewhere deep down inside, Grissom decided that he didn't want to hear anymore. He didn't  
want to put her through anymore of this. But to understand Deacon Marx, he had to know.  
"What happened to your sister?"  
  
"I don't know. I don't know if she fought him or what."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"When I woke up, she was gone. Even Marx was gone. There was nothing. Just me laying on the  
couch with some bruises."  
  
"He cleaned up the house."  
  
"Yes and even got a friend of his to vouch for him."  
  
Grissom didn't understand something. "But you said he went to jail for assault."  
  
"He slipped up. Right in front of me and a police officer, he told me that if I ever try to interfere  
again, he'd beat me senseless like he tried the night I was at my sister's. He was arrested for  
assault. But they never found her body. My sister's, that is. He planned it like she went out of  
town. But she didn't, I know it."  
  
"They didn't believe you?"  
  
"I was young. Why would they believe me. I didn't have the most perfect life, Grissom. I lied, I  
snuck out. So they decided they couldn't trust me. But I loved my sister. And I know Marx killed  
her."  
  
  
"So he went to jail."  
  
"Yes and wrote letters from jail telling me and my family that he got away from murder."  
  
"But why come after you?"  
  
"Because he knows I know. Get rid of me, and he'll have a perfect life," Sara told Grissom as she  
leaned back on her couch. "I don't know. Marx never liked me. I told my sister to leave him  
plenty of times."  
  
Grissom now understood. "He's finishing his plan."  
  
"Yup," Sara said as Grissom's cell phone rang.  
  
"Sorry," he said as he dug it out of his pocket. "Grissom... Yes, Brass...What? When?... A DUI...  
Sure, I'll tell her... How long?... No that gives us time... Thanks... All right."  
  
Watching Grissom put his phone away, Sara was intrigued. "What? What did Brass have to say?"  
  
"Deacon Marx was picked up on a DUI."  
  
"When?"  
  
"An hour ago."  
  
"So that means?"  
  
"You don't have to worry about Marx. He won't hurt you."  
  
"But he won't be in jail for long. Twenty-fours at the least."  
  
"Yes, but that will give us enough time to see if we can't lay some new charges on him," Grissom  
told her.  
  
Instantly, Sara wrapped her arms around Grissom. For some reason, she felt that telling Grissom  
had been the right thing to do. That he'd fix her problems.  
  
Grissom was shocked. He hadn't expected Sara to hug him, but instead of pushing her away, he  
wrapped his arms around her. She felt good in his arms.  
  
*****  
  
The rest of the night had been a blur. He remembered hugging Sara but after that, things had  
gotten steamy. He wasn't sure if he had taken advantage of her or if it was the other way around.  
All he knew was that there was a very beautiful naked woman laying beside him. And he knew  
that if he didn't leave now, things were going to get very interesting.  
  
*****  
  
Sitting in his office, Grissom was at a loss. He had gotten up and left Sara sleeping peacefully.  
What he figured was something she needed. But after going home and showering, he headed to  
his office. And so now he sat there with his head on his arms which were planted firmly on his  
desk.  
  
"Grissom?"  
  
Lifting his head, he looked up to see Catherine standing in the doorway. "Yes?"  
  
"You okay?"  
  
Sitting straight up, Grissom answered. "Yeah, just fine."  
  
Something didn't click right with his answer. He was hiding something. "Grissom."  
  
"I'm fine, Catherine." He knew she knew something was up.  
  
But Catherine didn't have enough time to question him.  
  
"Grissom?"  
  
"Yes, Brass."  
  
"Where's Sara?"  
  
"At home. Why?" Grissom didn't like where this was going.  
  
"Marx was released last night."  
  
"What?" That surprised Grissom. "I thought he'd have to spend the night."  
  
"Not according to the Sherrif."  
  
Getting up from behind his desk, Grissom grabbed his jacket. "Let's go, Brass."  
  
"I'm coming," Catherine piped up.  
  
"Okay," Grissom said as he waited for Brass and Catherine to exit his office. "I'll call her on the  
way."  
  
*****  
  
Sara had woke to an empty bed. Grissom was gone. Long gone, she guessed by the feel of her  
bed. It was cold. Ice cold.  
  
Getting up, she slipped into a pair of pj bottoms and a t-shirt. Exiting her bedroom, Sara had  
planned on going into the kitchen, but got sidetracked by a pair of hands. And they weren't  
Grissom's hands.  
  
*****  
  
"She's not answering," Grissom told Brass and Catherine.  
  
"Maybe she's sleeping," Catherine offered.  
  
"I highly doubt it," Grissom told her. After what Sara had told him about Marx, he knew that he  
had gone after her.  
  
Pulling up into her driveway, Brass spoke. "Well, were about to find out."  
  
Hopping out of the car, Grissom pulled his gun out. He always carried it but rarely used it. But in  
this case, Sara was in danger.  
  
"No sudden movements," Brass told Grissom and Catherine as he entered her newly busted door.  
  
After Brass had given the okay, Grissom re-entered Sara's house. He was mentally kicking himself  
for leaving. If he had stayed, this won't of been happening. Walking straight to her bedroom, he  
saw that she wasn't there.  
  
Searching all the other rooms, he rejoined Brass and Catherine in her living room. "She's not  
here."  
  
"Yeah," Brass sighed. "I put an APB out on her and Marx."  
  
"But while they look for her and Marx, where do we look?" Catherine asked. She was worried  
about Sara too.  
  
Watching Grissom, Brass interrupted him. "Grissom, what is it?" He sort of knew how Grissom's  
mind worked.  
  
"Where was Marx picked up?"  
  
"Last night?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
  
Racking his own brain, Brass had to mentally go over the report he had read. But then it hit him.  
"Just outside Mountain Park."  
  
"Big park," Catherine commented. "You could get lost in there."  
  
"Or hide something," Grissom added.  
  
"Let's go," Brass said as he headed out of the house, followed by Grissom and Catherine.  
  
*****  
  
"Let me go!" Sara yelled at Marx. He had kidnapped her. In broad daylight. He was daring.  
  
"No. I'm going to finish what I started six years ago," Marx told her.  
  
"You killed her, didn't you?"  
  
"Well, of course," Marx replied. "No one leaves me."  
  
Struggling to get out of his grip, Sara had to get away somehow. "Why do this now? Why not  
wait until it's dark?"  
  
"I've got other plans," Marx answered, making no sense. Grabbing on to her a little better, he  
continued. "It'll be over shortly, don't you worry."  
  
He had her hands tied behind her back, with what, she didn't know. To her if felt like a  
combination of duct tape and rope. But since she couldn't see, she didn't know. And he had  
draped a coat over her hands so that if anyone passed them, they couldn't see that she was in  
trouble. But Sara knew she had to leave clues for Grissom and Brass. Something that would catch  
Grissom's eye. Something that would save her life. Something.  
  
*****  
  
"Grissom."  
  
Turning around, Grissom greeted the voice. "Nick, Warrick."  
  
But it was Warrick that got right to business. "We came as soon as we could. What's this about  
Sara being kidnapped?"  
  
"It's true," Catherine told him. "She was kidnapped by a one Deacon Marx and he has here  
somewhere in this park."  
  
"You sure?" Nick questioned.  
  
  
"Yes," Brass answered. "He was picked up around here for a DUI last night. So we figured that  
he brought Sara here."  
  
"Is this just a random thing?" Warrick asked.  
  
"No, unfinished business," Grissom answered as he slipped his sunglasses on. "Let's go. She may  
not have a lot of time left."  
  
"All right, spread out," Brass told the gang.  
  
*****  
  
Dragging her feet was the only way she could come up with leaving clues. Her hands were tied.  
Stopping for a second, Sara made a G in the ground with her foot.  
  
"Come on!" Marx yelled at her. "Stop slowing down."  
  
Having no choice, Sara went with Marx. She had to escape. She just had too.  
  
*****  
  
Brass was to his left and Catherine to his right. But Grissom was in his own little world as he  
looked for Sara. His mind was filled with guilt. Only if he had stayed. Only. That was the  
problem, he hadn't.  
  
Looking at everything. The trees, the bushes and even the ground he walked on, something  
caught Grissom's eye. Stopping he bent down. It was a G. Taking a finger, he traced it. It was, he  
wasn't losing it. He was on the right trail.  
  
"Brass."  
  
Stopping his search, Brass jogged over to Grissom's position. "What do you have?"  
  
"What does that look like?" Grissom asked as he pointed down at the ground.  
  
Taking a better look at it, Brass answered. "It looks like a G."  
  
"That's Sara's clue."  
  
"So, she's on this trail."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Taking out his radio, he radioed another police officer. He told him to start down the middle trail,  
although, he knew the trail twisted; he hoped that they'd cut Marx off. "Let's go, Grissom," Brass  
told his friend and co-worker as he put his radio back and pulled his gun out.  
  
*****  
  
Marx was slowing down and looking around. Sara knew it wasn't good. She knew she had little  
time  
left.  
  
"Well, it's been nice knowing you and your sister," Marx told her as he pulled a knife out. "But to  
tell you the truth, I never liked both of you. You two just nagged too much."  
  
Wanting to back away, Sara struggled even more in Marx's grip. "No!" she said as she saw the  
knife come towards her.  
  
"Oh yes," Marx said as he thrust the knife at her. The knife went through her upper arm.  
  
Sara let out a cry. "Nooooo!!!!!"  
  
Holding his knife up, Marx aimed it at her chest. But then...  
  
"Put the knife down, Marx!" Brass yelled at him.  
  
Looking up from Sara, Marx saw Brass. "You can't stop me."  
  
"Oh yes I can," Brass told him. "Leave Sara go."  
  
"No way. She's mine," Marx said as he thrust the knife into her.  
  
Watching Marx stab her, Brass reacted. He aimed his gun and fired. Marx fell to the ground. Sara  
dropped to the ground in a heap.  
  
Watching Brass move towards Marx, Grissom quickly moved to Sara. "Sara?"  
  
"I hurt," she whispered.  
  
Looking down at her, Grissom placed his hand over the gaping wound on her side. "I know. Help  
is on the way."  
  
Noticing Marx was still alive, Brass handcuffed him, then used his radio and radioed for help.  
Turning to Sara and Grissom, he handed Grissom a knife. A different knife. A pocket knife  
actually.  
  
Taking the knife, Grissom gently as he could rolled Sara on her side and cut the ropes/duct tape  
off her hands. When he rolled her back over, he placed his hand back on her wound. "Sara, you  
still with me?"  
  
  
"Yes," she whispered again. She was in a lot of pain.  
  
Noticing Catherine and Nick running down the trail, Grissom spoke up. "Nick, get over here."  
  
Stopping beside Sara, Nick dropped down to the ground. "Sara?"  
  
"She's been stabbed twice," Grissom told him. "Here, put your hand here."  
  
Replacing Grissom's hand with his own, Nick looked down at her but spoke to Grissom. "Where  
are you going?"  
  
Getting up, Grissom answered Nick. "To get some answers." And with that he moved to where  
Marx was laying on the ground. Dropping down beside him, he spoke harshly to him. "Tell me  
where Sara's sister is?"  
  
"I don't have to," Marx told him as some blood trickled down his chin.  
  
"I don't think you have a choice," Grissom told him. "Where is she?"  
  
Coughing, Marx looked up at Grissom. "The Sidle sisters aren't worth it."  
  
"How would you know? You killed one before you could even get to know her. Now where is  
she?" Grissom demanded.  
  
"Langsbury Cemetery in San Fran."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"There's an old greyish black crypt. She's buried around it," Marx told Grissom as he laughed then  
coughed.  
  
"If you live, you may never see daylight again," Grissom told him as he got up.  
  
"But my job will be done," Marx told Grissom as his eyes closed.  
  
Turning around, he watched as two paramedics gently picked Sara up and placed her on a  
stretcher. She wasn't looking good. And it pulled at his heartstrings that he could of stopped all of  
it.  
  
"Grissom?"  
  
Looking away from Sara, Grissom looked to find Catherine standing beside him. "Yes."  
  
"You going to go with her?"  
  
"No, let Nick. Or yourself."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yes, I have some unfinished business."  
  
*****  
  
By the time Sara was out of surgery, Grissom was on a plane to San Francisco. He had some  
unfinished business to take care of and he knew that Sara couldn't possibly do it.  
  
It would be a short flight but he needed a nap. So much had happened. At the back of his mind, he  
silently hoped that Sara was okay. That she was pulling through. He choose to cut off any  
communication with CSI until he finished his business.   
  
*****  
  
"Hey Catherine."  
  
Walking towards Warrick who was standing in the middle of the hall, Catherine spoke to him.  
"Yes Warrick."  
  
"Sara's awake. The doctor said she'll pull through," Warrick told her as they shared a hug.  
  
"That's great. Can she have visitors?"  
  
"Ya but one at a time. Nick's in there with her right now," Warrick explained. "Hey, have you  
seen Gris?"  
  
"No, not since Brass and him found her," Catherine admitted. "He was acting odd then."  
  
"Odd how?"  
  
"He said he had some unfinished business to attend too."  
  
"That is odd," Warrick agreed. "But that's Gris for ya."  
  
"Ya true," Catherine agreed but she knew there was more. Something more. Noticing Nick walk  
out of Sara's room, she called to him. "Nicky."  
  
"Hey Catherine," Nick greeted as he joined his friends.  
  
"How is she?"  
  
"Sore. Tired. The usual when you get hurt," Nick answered. "But she's Sara."  
  
  
Smiling at Nick, Catherine decided to ask the unspoken question. "Did she ask for Grissom?"  
  
"Actually, no," Nick replied. "I asked if she wanted to see Grissom and she said no. Which is  
really odd, don't you think?"  
  
"Ya," Warrick agreed. "But Grissom isn't here."  
  
"What?" Nick couldn't believe it.  
  
"No Nick, he isn't here. He had some unfinished business," Catherine told him.  
  
"Odd."  
  
"Ya, but any ways, my turn to go see her," Catherine announced.  
  
"Sure," Nick said as he and Warrick watched Catherine walk into her room.   
  
*****  
  
Walking up to a group of people, Grissom interrupted. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Inspector  
Carter."  
  
"You must be Grissom," an overweight man replied.  
  
"Yes, Gil Grissom."  
  
"What brings a Las Vegas CSI agent out here?" Carter inquired. "Especially to a cemetery?"  
  
"About six years ago, you investigated a murder case involving the Sidle sisters?"  
  
"Oh ya. The young one had said her sister had been murdered. We never found a body," the  
Inspector answered. "What was his name? Deacon Marx."  
  
"Ya Deacon Marx," Grissom repeated. He didn't like the Inspector. Not at all. "Deacon Marx was  
killed earlier today."  
  
"He's in prison."  
  
"No he isn't. He's in a Las Vegas morgue."  
  
"What?"  
  
"They released him from prison."  
  
"This is news to me," the Inspector admitted. "How'd he die?"  
  
"He went after the last remaining Sidle sister," Grissom told him. Not letting his emotions get to  
him, he continued on. "He assaulted, kidnapped and tried to murder Sara Sidle."  
  
"Damn. Hope she's okay?"  
  
"She's recovering in a Las Vegas hospital."  
  
After listening to what Grissom had just explained to him, Carter was ready to help. "What can I  
do for you?"  
  
"Marx told me where he buried Sara's sister."  
  
"He did?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"All right, let's go prove that Sara Sidle was right," the inspector replied.  
  
"We're looking for a greyish black crypt."  
  
"Is she buried instead?"  
  
"Nope. Around."  
  
Cringing, Carter didn't like the sound of that. "There's at least two crypts that colour."  
  
"Show them to me."  
  
*****  
  
"Sara?"  
  
Turning her head, Sara gave her visitor a smile. "Hi Catherine."  
  
"How's it going?" Catherine asked as she sat down on the stool beside her bed. But she already  
knew the answer. "Ya I know. Sore and tired."  
  
"You talked to Nick?"  
  
"Ya, out in the hall with Warrick," Catherine replied.  
  
"And Grissom?"  
  
Surprised she would inquire about him, Catherine had to tell her the truth. She didn't want to lie  
to her. "Not here."  
  
"What?"  
  
"He's not here. We have no clue where he is."  
  
"Odd."  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Did he mention anything?"  
  
"Just that he had some unfinished business."  
  
"And you don't know what the means?" Sara asked.  
  
"No. Sorry," Catherine answered as she saw Sara yawn. "Get some sleep, we'll be around here."  
  
"Okay," Sara said as she closed her eyes and instantly drifted off to sleep.  
  
Catherine decided to stay with her for awhile. Just in case.  
  
*****  
  
"You look tired, Grissom."  
  
"It's been a long day," Grissom admitted.  
  
"You know, this may take awhile."  
  
"I'm not leaving."  
  
Sticking his hands up, Carter backed off. "Okay. If you need anything, just tell me."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
*****  
  
Sara hadn't woken up and Catherine hadn't the foggiest clue on how long she had been sleeping.  
Neither did Warrick.  
  
"Catherine," Warrick whispered.  
  
Trying to straighten up, Catherine was in pain. "OW!"  
  
  
Helping her to her feet, Warrick walked with her out of Sara's room. Once in the hall, he rubbed  
her shoulders. "Better?"  
  
"Almost," Catherine admitted. "What time is it?"  
  
"Seven-thirty."  
  
"AM or PM?"  
  
"PM," Warrick answered. "Listen, I think Sara's going to sleep all night, so let's go home. Go see  
your kid."  
  
"Sounds good," Catherine agreed. "Where's Nick?"  
  
"He left an hour ago."  
  
"Oh and they have our numbers?"  
  
"Yes. They know to phone you first. Then the two of us," Warrick replied. "Come on, I'll walk  
you to your car."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
*****  
  
Grissom was dead tired. Pardon the pun. But he was. It had been one of his longest days ever.  
Starting with waking early in the morning, making the wrong decision, going after Marx who  
kidnapped Sara and ending up here, in San Fran. He was about ready to give up.  
  
"I think we found something," an office called out.  
  
Getting up, Grissom joined Carter and walked towards the officer.  
  
"What did you find?"  
  
"A skull," the officer answered.  
  
"This is a cemetery," Carter told him.  
  
"Let me rephrase that sir," the officer started. "How about a skull and an arm."  
  
"No torso?"  
  
"No sir."  
  
  
"Marx was laughing when he answered me, so I figure he did something to her," Grissom told  
Carter.  
  
"So, you're saying, he cut her up?"  
  
"It's possible," Grissom answered.   
  
"Keep digging."  
  
"Can I have the skull and arm?" Grissom asked.  
  
"Sure," the officer said as he got up out of the hole and walked over to Grissom.   
  
"Thanks," Grissom said as he put the items in a bag. "Did you ever get DNA of Sara's sister?"  
  
"Ya, we have some hair fibers."  
  
"Good," Grissom replied. "Got a lab I can use?"  
  
"Yup. Come with me."  
  
Before leaving, Grissom spoke to the officers. "Keep digging."  
  
*****  
  
It wasn't his lab. It was far from it. But as he sat their staring at the skull, Grissom kept telling  
himself that he was doing this for Sara. Sara and her family.   
  
"Grissom."  
  
Looking up, Grissom found Carter standing just in the door with two cups of coffee.  
  
"Thought you'd need this," Carter told him as he handed him a cup.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"So what did you find out?"  
  
"Nothing yet. I sent the DNA test to my lab. Should be a few hours before we get a result,"  
Grissom told him.  
  
"Then, I'd suggest you get some rest. You look like hell."  
  
Grissom knew Carter was right. He'd be no help to Sara's family if he was dead tired. "All right."  
  
  
*****  
  
Greg was gloomy. The girl he had a crush on was laying in a hospital bed and he was there at the  
lab, doing a favor for Grissom.  
  
"Greg?"  
  
Lifting his head, he spotted Nick. "Hey."  
  
"You okay?"  
  
"Fine," Greg replied as he put his head back on his arms.   
  
Nick knew he wasn't. "Sara will be fine."  
  
"Ya, I know."  
  
"So then, what's the problem?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Greg."  
  
"Nick, I got work to do."  
  
Backing off, Nick spoke. "Okay, see you later."  
  
"Ya," Greg mumbled. He didn't bother to see if Nick had left or not.   
  
*****  
  
She hadn't sleep so peacefully like she had since, well since she had slept with Grissom. All the  
drugs that were being pumped into her body, knocked her out cold.  
  
Staring up at the ceiling, Sara spoke to herself. The advantages of having a room to herself.  
"Where are you Grissom? What is happening with us?" But she had no answers and she had no  
one to answer them for her. She was alone and the man she loved was no where to be seen.  
  
*****  
  
Knocking on the door, Grissom waited patiently. Carter on the other hand fiddled with the button  
on his jacket.  
  
"Yes, may I help you," an elderly lady answered.  
  
"Mrs. Sidle?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"My name is Gil Grissom. I'm a CSI agent out of Las Vegas," Grissom introduced. "This is  
Inspector Carter of the SFPD."  
  
"CSI," Mrs. Sidle repeated. "My daughter works for them."  
  
"Yes, I know. She's one of my agents," Grissom told her. "But please don't worry Mrs. Sidle,  
Sara is fine."  
  
Placing a hand on her chest, Mrs. Sidle had started fearing the worse.   
  
"May we come in?" Grissom asked.  
  
"Yes, yes of course."  
  
*****  
  
Knocking lightly on her door, Greg wasn't to sure if this had been a good idea.  
  
"Come on in," Sara replied.  
  
Poking his head in, Greg spoke. "Hope I'm not bothering you?"  
  
"Not at all. Come on in Greg," Sara invited.  
  
Shuffling to the bed, Greg continued. "How you doing?"  
  
"Getting better," Sara answered as she noticed that Greg seemed nervous. "You're a friend Greg,  
you can visit me anytime."  
  
Smiling at her, Greg continued. "Wasn't sure if I should have come or not."  
  
"I'm glad you came," Sara told him with a smile. And she was. She hated being lonely.  
  
*****  
  
"Maggie disappeared six years ago. Sara always said that Deacon Marx killed her but no one  
believed her," Mrs. Sidle explained.  
  
"Did you?" Grissom just had to ask.  
  
"We knew something happened," Mr. Sidle told him. "But what, we weren't sure. Not as sure as  
Sara."  
  
"What if I could ease your pain?" Grissom asked.  
  
"How? We already buried Maggie," Mr. Sidle answered.  
  
"Before Marx died, I asked him where he had buried your daughter," Grissom started.  
  
"And?" Mrs. Sidle quizzed.  
  
"We found her."  
  
"What?" Mr. Sidle questioned. He was in shock.  
  
"We found your daughter."  
  
"Oh my," Mrs. Sidle replied. She was at a lost for words.   
  
"You found her?" Mr. Sidle had to ask.  
  
"Yes. We found her. But you must understand it's been six years."  
  
"Mr. Grissom, trust us, we understand. But now at least we can bury a body," Mrs. Sidle told  
him. "Our baby will be at peace."  
  
Smiling at the Sidle's, Grissom could see where Sara got her family traits from. "Inspector Carter  
will arrange for an officer to drop of the cremated remains."  
  
Mrs. Sidle knew that there wouldn't be a complete body, but ashes of her daughter delighted her  
just as well. "Thank you, Mr. Grissom."  
  
"Your very welcome," Grissom told them as Inspector Carter got up.  
  
"Ah Grissom, I'll be out in the car," Carter told him as he left the house.  
  
"Mr. Grissom, is there more?" Mr. Sidle inquired.  
  
"Yes," Grissom answered. "Deacon Marx was shot because he was trying to kill your daughter."  
Grissom really couldn't think of a better way of putting it. "But don't worry, she only came out  
with two stab wounds. None life threatening." Of course, he really didn't know. Greg couldn't tell  
him very much.   
  
"Oh my," Mrs. Sidle reacted as her husband took a hold of her hand.  
  
"Where is she?" Mr. Sidle asked.  
  
"Las Vegas County General."  
  
"Have you talked to her?" Mrs. Sidle questioned.  
  
"No, not yet. I wanted to find your other daughter first," Grissom answered.   
  
Turning to her husband, Mrs. Sidle spoke. "We should go see her."  
  
"Ah," Grissom interrupted. When Mrs. Sidle turned her attention back to him, he continued. "May  
I suggest inviting her here. She needs to heal physically and emotionally."  
  
"Sounds like a plan," Mr. Sidle agreed. "How can we thank you, Mr. Grissom?"  
  
"I did this for your family and for Sara," Grissom answered as he stood up. "I should get going."  
  
"Thank you," Mrs. Sidle replied as she gave Grissom a hug. "Thank you, very much."  
  
Shaking Mr. Sidle's hand, Grissom spoke. "Your very welcome." And with that he was gone from  
the house.  
  
*****  
  
A week had passed. Sara was in San Francisco with her family and Grissom was doing his best to  
get on with his life. His personal life and CSI life. But it wasn't working. His mind won't get off  
Sara. He missed her.  
  
Laying his head on his desk, Grissom was off in his little world.  
  
"I don't know if I should punch you or hug you."  
  
Whipping his head up, Grissom saw Sara. But he said nothing.  
  
"My parents explained everything to me. They said you visited them."  
  
Grissom could only watch her.  
  
"That would explain why you weren't at the hospital."  
  
Again he said nothing.  
  
"You found my sister for me."  
  
Nodding his head, was his way of answering her.  
  
  
"You told my parents about Marx and what he did to me."  
  
Again he nodded his head.  
  
"And you suggested they invite me down."  
  
He said nothing. She was right on all accounts.  
  
Since he wasn't talking, Sara decided to get it all out. "We slept together, technically a one night  
stand and you left the next morning."  
  
In the moment, he almost forgot to breath.   
  
"Now I think I should punch you."  
  
Only one word would form on his lips. "Sara."  
  
"Grissom."  
  
Then that was it, he didn't know what to say.  
  
"I thought so," Sara replied as she just stood in his door watching him.   
  
He knew he had to do something. He knew that. But what, that he wasn't sure off. Getting up  
from behind his desk, he walked to her. "We need to talk."  
  
"We are. Oh wait, no I am."  
  
"Please come in."  
  
She didn't know if she wanted to. But did. Watching him close his door, she waited.  
  
"I honestly didn't know if I could face you. I don't remember much of that night. Everything was  
a blur for me. But I do know that waking up beside you made my morning."  
  
"Why didn't you stay then?" Sara asked as anger crept into her voice.  
  
"I was scared. But I wish I would have."  
  
"Marx would of probably killed you."  
  
"But at least I could have protected you."  
  
"You found me."  
  
  
"Ya, but it was almost to late."  
  
"I'm here, aren't I?"  
  
"Yes you are," he agreed. "While you were in the hospital, I wanted to put an end to your  
suffering. I wanted to find your sister. To prove to the cops in San Fran that you weren't lying."  
  
"You could have told Catherine where you were," Sara countered.  
  
"I know. But it was something I had to do."  
  
"You mean make up to me?" Sara asked.  
  
Stopping mid-way, Grissom closed his mouth and thought about it. "I guess in a way, yes."  
  
"I wish you would of phoned me, Grissom. I was worried about you."  
  
"Same. I was worried about you. Greg couldn't tell me very much. No one filled him in," Grissom  
told her. "Do you realize, that you are one heck of a lady to get out of my head. I couldn't stop  
thinking of you."  
  
That made her smile.  
  
A smile. He was proud. So he smiled back at her.  
  
"So we forget that night ever happened?"  
  
"No."  
  
"What?" Sara was semi confused.  
  
"We continue on. Get to know each other."  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
"Ya, very serious," Grissom answered. "About you."  
  
Sara could see that he was serious. "But I still want to hurt you for leaving me that morning."  
  
Having no choice, Grissom grinned. "Let me make it up to you."  
  
"You can try," Sara said as she let Grissom close the distance between them and hug her. "Be  
gentle."  
  
"With you, always," Grissom told her as he hugged her.  
  
**********  
  
Feedback is highly recommended. 


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